The States and Their Mischievous Nature
by PorcelanaRota
Summary: Yes, America has 50 States personified. No, not just 50; 52, including Puerto Rico and Washington D.C. Yes, they are all very mischievous and out to get one another. And no, not one day goes by without America getting a migraine from their antics. / A series of drabbles featuring the United States of America (aka: America's kids).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

 **This is something I've had on my mind for a while now. I've read bunches of States AUs, but they usually end up focusing on only or two states, and I want to void that.**

 **Plus, authors always forget my home state. Not only does it make me angry, but it also makes me sad. Now i know how Canada feels. *sighs* No one ever forgets the Original 13, or California. Or Louisiana. Or... Florida. Haha... I'm not funny.**

 **Anyway, at first these are just going to be drabbles about the States. Each drabble will focus on 2+ States and their mischievous attitudes. At the end of each drabble, there might be a cameo of a couple of other States. Don't panic, they'll get a drabble of their own later on. They're just their either for my own amusement or to help explain the plot of the drabble they cameo in. Or both. Most commonly both.**

 **Each chapter will contain 4+ drabbles to cut down the number of chapters before the actual plot begins-aka, when the States meet the nations. So I'm thinking there will be 10 to 15 chapters before their existences are revealed.**

 **Well, enjoy~**

Texas kicked his feet back and forth in the water, sitting on an old dock on his property. The sun beat down on him, but he was protected from the heat by his brown cowboy hat. He wore a dark blue button down shirt, and his jeans were rolled up to his knees. His signature cowboy boots were discarded to the side of him, several feet away.

The water before him was a murky blue, the reflecting sky merging with the mud at the bottom of the lake. Fish swam beneath the water, relaxed and unsuspecting of any fishing hooks.

Which was good for them, because Texas didn't plan on fishing today.

A gentle breeze continuously blew through the valley that the lake was located in, ruffling the lake water into miniature waves. Texas closed his sky blue eyes and inhaled, relishing the scent of Texas freedom.

In the distance, he could hear his horses whiny and neigh as they grazed on the green grass, going about their day. Moos from his cows were there, too, but from the other side of the lake, where many stood.

A creak on the end if the dock told him that the one he's been expecting had arrived.

"Hey-a, Mex," he said, not bothering to turn around.

"Hi," New Mexico replied, and he walked over to Texas. He kicked off his own boots and set them next to Texas's, abs then rolled up his jeans. He then plopped down next to his friend and stuck his feet in the water.

"Nice day out," New Mexico commented, looking at the cloudless sky above them. His hazel-green eyes sparkled, and his golden brown hair was highlighted in the sun.

"Yeah. Perfect for just smooth relaxation," Texas agreed.

"We should go boating sometime," New Mexico stated.

"You wanna stick around long enough to do so tamarra'?" Texas asked.

"Wouldn't mind it a lick," New Mexico said.

The two then say in silence for a bit, until New Mexico's phone beeped. The young man pulled it from his pocket and then paled, "Ay Dios."

"What?" Texas asked.

"I accidently let it slip to Utah where I was goin' for the day," New Mexico started, "and he may have told Mexico..."

"Mierda, 'ay Dios' was right!" Texas cried, his face rapidly paling.

"¿Tejas?" a shrill, cheerful Mexican accented voice called out. "¿Nuevo Mejico? I know you're out here, ¡niños! Come talk to Madre!"

"Should we run, Clyde?" New Mexico asked in slight fear.

"Do the British like tejano music?" Texas asked in return

"No," New Mexico stated.

"There's your answer, George," Texas shivered.

"We're doomed." The two latched onto each other at that statement.

"That we are."

"Ah-ha! I've found you, ¡niños!"

The two screeched in fear as Mother-Bear Mexico hugged them from behind.

Meanwhile in Arizona, Utah and Colorado were snickering to themselves after ratting Texas and New Mexico out to Mexico in Arizona's living room.

"What are you two fools laughing about?" Arizona demanded as he walked in from the kitchen.

"Nothing, Jordan!" the two replied in unison, only making themselves look more guilty.

"As long as I wasn't a part of it," Arizona sighed as he left the room, shaking his head.

The two mischievous states still in the room looked at each other and simultaneously fell into a fresh wave of giggles.

((I'mTheHero))

"Sh-h!" hissed Ohio to West Virginia, who kept giggling as if he were a girl. The two were out in the dark of night in Wisconsin, right in front of said State's house. They were hiding in the bushes, Ohio holding a can of orange spray paint. "If you keep this up, I'm not bringing you along next time!"

"Okay, okay!" West Virginia quietly cried out, never wanting to be left out of a good prank. "I'll shut up."

"Good," Ohio rolled his eyes and stood up from the bushes. He looked around the perimeter of Wisconsin's house, noting that all the lights in the building were off. Nodding to himself, he deemed it safe and ran forward, gesturing for West to do the same.

West Virginia gave a small snicker, but nothing else. They made it to the east side of the house and Ohio popped off the lid of the spray can after shaking it.

"Don't I get to do anything?" West whined as Ohio pulled his shirt over his nose.

"You're my lookout," Ohio replied instantly, starting to vandalize Wisconsin's house.

"Hmph!" West pouted, crossing his arms. "Next time, I'll bring glitter so I can actually do stuff."

"You do that," Ohio replied, distracted.

West Virginia gave another noise of irritation at being ignored, but didn't bother replying. After a few minutes, Ohio stepped back, proud of his work.

"Dad's gonna kill us when he finds out," West commented.

"Only after Wisconsin gets to us, so we'll already be dead when Dad comes after us."

"That doesn't make me feel better," West said. "Let's go. Don't wanna tempt fate anymore than we already have."

"Yeah," Ohio agreed. "Let's get out of here."

"You wanna stop at Michigan's and write something on his house?" West suggested, knowing Ohio wouldn't be able to resist agreeing.

"This is why I keep you around," Ohio said gleefully, shaking the can up some more with an evil grin as they walked to Ohio's car.

The next morning, Wisconsin woke up and saw that outside his house, "BROWNS RULE" was spray-painted on the side of his house. Michigan woke up to a yellow sticky note on his forehead with reading, "How's the job at Chrysler going?" and his bedroom wall reading, "EUCHRE ISN'T A THING," and "OHIO STATE ROCKS, BITCH!"

That morning, two simultaneous cries of "OHIIIIIOOOOOO!" echoed seemingly endlessly.

((I'mTheHero))

Kansas and Arkansas really, really, really couldn't stand one another sometimes.

It wasn't because of rivaling football teams or anything of that sort.

It wasn't because of border wars, because they didn't even border each other.

Oh, no; it was because of their names.

They were so damn similar in spelling! Nearly everyday, the two heard from other states: "Oh, look! It's Ar-Kansas!" or "Hey, there's Kan-saw!" and they blamed each other for it.

(Not only that, but they both look very similar, too, which only makes things worse. Both had brown eyes and blond hair. They could be twins, and they hated it.)

Because of this, the two refused to acknowledge each other by their human names, Harper and Lloyd (Arkansas and Kansas). They would just glare at each other and then bitingly spit out the other's state name.

Truth be told, it got old. And fast, too. DC constantly got complaints from the other States because of it, and DC-being the blubbering mess he is-quickly became overwhelmed in the more modern times since they could complain more often to him because of easier communications. He tried to talk it out with the two States and act as a mediator, but soon enough he was sporting a black eye after getting between the two of them thirty seconds into the "peace talk." He went crying to America and America had to straighten things out.

"You two need to stop your ceaseless fighting," America had scolded, glaring at the two immature States. "DC came to me, wearing a black eye and sobbing about how you two wouldn't stop fighting and it was all his fault. You know how sensitive your older brother is!"

"We're sorry," the two replied guiltily, but not because of their fighting; rather, because they hit DC. Despite him being older than several States, he was around fourteen-years-old, human-wise, at least. (As stated earlier, he was also a blubbering mess.) His youth came from being just a district rather than a state, like the others.

"Don't apologize to me," America said, "Apologize to each other, and then DC."

"Right," Kansas said as Arkansas groaned out, "Fine." The two turned to each other and bit out, "I'm... sorry," as if it physically pained them.

"Now, go apologize to your brother," America commanded. "I expect y'all to behave. I've got a plane to catch. DC is in charge, as usual.

Before he left the room, he called out, "Bye boys, love you!" to which the two States grumbled a reply.

They stood in silence together for a few moments, and then Arkansas said, "I'm willing for a temporary truce to get revenge on the States who call us differing variations of the other, if you're game."

A thoughtful gaze entered Kansas's face, "A truce, you say? Do tell."

Arkansas grinned and said, "They all think we hate each other. I propose we start acting all buddy-buddy and see how long it takes for them to prepare for the apocalypse."

"Ark," Kansas began, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful truce."

The two shook hands, and a week later, when America returned from the World Conference, he was surprised to find over twenty of his States barricaded in his main house's basement, crying about "the end of life as we all know it" and "I think they may have broken Oklahoma!"

Sadly for him, this was his daily life.

( I'mTheHero ) )

"Cazzo!" a curse rang loudly throughout the house. An angry Italian-American stood with a scowl plastered on his face, quickly turning red. Laughing on the floor was another man, one who was surely about to die.

Rhode Island was, of course, the angry American-Italian man. He stood short and thin, but ready to beat the laughing idiot on the floor to death-New York, that one was.

The reason for Rhode Island's rage was clear: New York had spilled Rhode Island's favorite drink-Del's Frozen Lemonade-all over his lap, as well as his clam cakes! _My clam cakes! What kind of monster just does that?_

"You-You!" Rhode Island didn't have words for how upset he was. "You bastard! I'm going to murder you!" My mistake; he does.

"Please don't kill me!" he begged (he and Vermont were the only ones afraid of pushing Rhode Island too far; they know that size really doesn't matter when it comes to Rhodey). "Howie, bro, you know I love ya!"

"You spilled my lemonade! My clam cakes! I'll kill you!" was Rhode Island's response.

New York screamed at the fiery voice and continued running around the house, Rhode Island chasing after him, throwing Italian curses at the man angrily.

Upstairs, Connecticut locked the door to the guest room he was staying in and shook his head. He muttered to himself, "If York is so afraid of Rhodey, why does he continue to torture him?"

It wasn't meant to be answered, but another scream still resounded throughout the house, sounding remotely like, "YOLO!"

 **A/N**

 **Euchre is a card game played in Michigan, and it's apparently very complicated. I don't think I spelled it right... But anyway, Ohio is rivals with Michigan. Just like how Kansas has a rivalry with Arkansas. I'm not entirely sure on that one, but my best friend, who is from Kansas, explained to me that people from Kansas think that those from Arkansas are all inbred idiots, while people from Arkansas think that people from Kansas are wimpy babies. Also, if you're ever in Arkansas, say that you like the Razorbacks. Just do it, because according to said friend from Kansas, will be shunned if you say otherwise. It doesn't matter how old you are, you will be shunned.**

 **Also, there's apparently a stereotype that everyone from Michigan works at Chrysler or some other automobile related dealy.**

 **Anyway, so far my favorite State is Rhode Island. According to my research, people from Rhode Island mostly have Italian roots, so I just had to base Rhodey off Romano. Heck, from what I read, stereotypical Rhode Islanders's first words are usually Italian curse words! Oh, yes, Rhodey is definitely my favorite so far. I imagine his relationship with NY is similar to Spain's and Romano's.**

 **Moving on, here are the human names of the States mentioned so far:**

 **Texas-Clyde**

 **New Mexico-George**

 **Arizona-Jordan**

 **Utah-Lee**

 **Colorado-Michael**

 **Ohio-Tom**

 **West Virginia-Steve**

 **Wisconsin-Mark**

 **Michigan-Taylor**

 **Kansas-Lloyd**

 **Arkansas-Harper**

 **DC-Bill (I'm probably going to change this one)**

 **Rhode Island-Howard**

 **New York-Palmer**

 **Connecticut-Jonathan (or just John)**

 **The States are named after people who were either born there or spent a significant amount of time there, or even had some sort of impact on the State. Guess who was named after who in reviews if you'd like :)**

 **Anyway, I don't care if you send in requests in reviews/PMs for what States you want to see next, but don't send in OCs please. I already have names and genders and personalities planned out.**

 **I'm sorry if the A/Ns felt longer than the drabbles, but I needed to explain things. Next update, there will be more drabbles than A/Ns, I solemnly swear.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

 ***slowly begins sobbing* I thought I had it, guys. I really, really did. I thought I had finally figured out how to upload a Google Doc onto this stupid site. It was uploading, the Doc was. I was sitting on the edge of my seat, so excited to have finally figured out how to upload a file on FF using a tablet, but then a little thing popped up, reading, "please choose a compatible file to upload."**

 **The taste of bitter defeat coated my tongue in a thick layer, taunting me cruelly.**

 **Technology has won this round. Again.**

 **I have to continue copying and pasting. *begins to sob again***

 **xxXxx**

"This is ridiculous," Nevada muttered as he trudged along the street in Irondequoit, New York with Oregon and California— who was one of the only female States. "Why are we doing this, again?"

"Because Oregon made a stupid bet with New York that he could so face the White Lady without crying for Dad," California reminded Nevada, a glare on her face directed to Oregon.

"Hey!" Oregon said, ready to defend himself, "You know how annoying York can be! He's such an ass sometimes!"

"But the White Lady—" Nevada hissed.

"—Isn't real," Oregon waved him off.

"If she isn't real, then why am I coming along with you?" California muttered resolutely.

You see, the White Lady is a ghost who roams Irondequoit, New York. When the Lady was alive, her daughter just disappeared. Convinced that her child was murdered and raped by an old farmer, the Lady drove herself mad trying to find her daughter and prove the farmer's guilt. Eventually, she threw herself off a cliff in her grief of being unable to find her baby, and she died. Now, she roams the streets of Irondequoit, searching for her daughter, driving off any men she sees on her daughter's behalf.

And the reason for the three States searching for this White Lady comes down to Oregon: The boy bet that the White Lady wasn't as scary as New York made her out to be, and New York took that as a personal challenge. He told Oregon to wander around Irondequoit until he stumbled upon the White Lady.

Unwilling to back down from the bet, Oregon agreed and then bribed Nevada and California to help him. (Or rather use as meat-shields incase the White Lady truly is real.) He also tried to get Washington to join in, but the State fell into hysterical laughter and eventually said, "Yeah, I don't mess with the supernatural. Sorry to disappoint."

So they were alone on this.

Or, so they thought.

It started as a whisper. A quiet warning to leave, to get away. The voice was airy and hissing, drawing out every syllable with a slow murmur. It was an agonizing sound, one of pain and fear for the safety of another. The voice was saying, "Get away from her!"

"Was that...?" gulped Nevada.

"What was what?" Oregon snorted, and them to himself, he muttered, "This ain't got nothin' on Crater Lake."

"Get away from her!" The voice was louder this time.

"That!" Nevada answered Oregon.

"Sounded like the wind to me," California shrugged.

"Get...!" Now it was screeching, howling in emotional pain, and the fog before them cleared enough for them to see a figure in white some yards away from them. "Away...! From her!"

"Oh my God," Nevada whispered, then yelped, "You're on your own, Oregon!" And the State was gone quicker than lightning.

"Coward!" Oregon yelled after the running away State.

"Better a living coward than a dead hero," California grumbled, backing away.

"Not you, too!" Oregon whined, and suddenly the White Lady was right in front of his face. "Fucking hell!" he yelped, jumping back in fear.

"Leave her," the Lady hissed, her eyes glowing red.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem," Oregon cried out, scrambling away and running after Nevada, leaving California alone with the ghost.

The wispy Lady turned her eyes upon California and slowly turned soft, kind blue. "Are you all right, dear?" she asked, her voice now motherly and no longer deathly.

"Y-yes," California stuttered out, shocked by this turn of events.

The Lady gave a smile and held out a moonlight pale hand, "Let me walk you home."

California took her hand without hesitation.

It was cold, but it felt like safety. She liked that feeling.

Meanwhile, in New York's house, NY and Connecticut were having the following conversation:

"Wait, so you didn't tell them that the White Lady wouldn't hurt them as long as they didn't hurt Cali?" asked Connecticut.

"Yeah, pretty much," New York answered.

"But you didn't tell Cali, either?"

"Nope." New York shrugged.

"You realize they probably abandoned her as soon as they got too scared, right?"

"Well, the Lady won't hurt Cali; she just don't do that to girls. In fact, she helps them."

"Whatever you say..." Connecticut remained unconvinced until California got back five minutes after the panting Nevada and Oregon, talking about how cool the white Lady is, and _New York, why didn't you introduce the two of us earlier?_

Yes; NY passed out in shock that night. He didn't expect Cali to get along with the Lady quite so well! Or at all.

xxXxx

"But aren't you two, like, the same state?"

Ah, there it was again: the sweet sound of Illinois irritating North Carolina and South Carolina. He loved to poke fun at the two Southern States, and always did it at their common weak point: assuming they are the same person.

S. and N. Carolina both had an eye twitch in unison, and from the other end of the conference, South and North Dakota got ready to jump into the argument.

The States—all fifty of them, plus DC (Puerto Rico didn't usually come to these things, using the "but I'm not a state" excuse)—were sitting in a conference room for their monthly meeting, and as usual, nothing was getting done. No matter how much Pennsylvania wished otherwise.

"We aren't, you dumb ass," North Carolina growled out, clutching his iced tea so tightly, the glass looked ready to shatter.

"But you are!" Illinois insisted. "Back in colonial days, you two were the same person!"

"Yeah, back in colonial days," South Carolina hissed.

"Which isn't now," North Carolina said.

"Well, you two certainly act like the same person!" Illinois sniffed. "And look it, in fact."

It was true: Both boys had messy brunette hair and emerald green eyes. They were nearly identical—the only things that separated them as people was their names and writing hand (N. Carolina was a lefty, and S. Carolina a righty). And the only thing that separated them as States were a border and their people.

They were completely different in personality, however.

N. Carolina hated fashion, for instance, while S. Carolina welcomed it with open arms. His female citizens loved dressing up and putting Barbie dolls everywhere to shame. He also was a wild partier, drinking Fireball whiskey straight from the bottle whenever he could but it with his fake I.D. stating that he was 21. (In reality, both he and N. Carolina were seventeen-year-old twins.)

And where S. Carolina didn't have a heart for biscuits, N. Carolina did. That guy could always be seen eating a biscuit. Eating a biscuit at breakfast, at lunch, and at dinner. And for a snack. And while watching NASCAR (because damn, did he love his NASCAR). And with his sweet tea. And at a BBQ.

Biscuits are delicious, don't judge him. He loves his biscuits.

"Leave the Carolinas alone, Illinois," Pennsylvania sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"I still propose we should combine North and South Carolina!" Illinois insisted.

"All right," Pennsylvania sighed again. "All in favor?"

Only Illinois raised his hand.

"All opposed?"

Everyone but Illinois raised his or her hand.

"Vote's unanimous," Pennsylvania said. "The Carolinas will remain two separate states."

"Fuck you all," Illinois grumbled. Louder, he said, "What about the Dakotas?"

Almost in unison, everyone yelled for Illinois to shut up.

"No one appreciates good comic relief anymore," Illinois muttered to himself.

xxXxx

Louisiana rolled his brown eyes uncaringly as Texas drones on and on about the wonders of horseback riding. Louisiana truthfully just wanted to ride a pickup truck through some mud right about now, but the blond Texan continued his ramblings.

"Help me," Louisiana mouthed the words to Alabama, who was carefully sliding his way to the door to freedom behind Texas's back.

"Sorry," Alabama mouthed back, looking oddly fine with leaving Louisiana to have his ear talked off.

Louisiana's eyes narrowed and he said loudly, "Hey, Tex! Looks to me like Aly wants ta hear your story!"

Texas whipped around with bright eyes and honed in on his next prey, "Oh, hiya, Aly! I didn't see ya there!" The blond then went on and talked and talked and talked, not noticing Louisiana slip out of his house and walk through the French Quarter of New Orleans. Louisiana ignored the betrayed glares being aimed at his head as he left.

"Thought I'd never escape," he muttered to himself in French, smiling cheerfully at his out-and-about neighbors to cover up his relief.

"Allo, Louis!" one of his neighbors chimed at him.

"Bonjour, Mrs. Dubois," he called back, and made his way to one of his favorite cafés.

Ah. Free from that fast-talking-Texan at last!

He grinned as he sat down and placed his order at the café, bringing out his phone and sending a text to Mexico:

"Hola, Mexico! Texas was talking about how much he missed you. He's going to be in New Orleans with me for a while, why don't you drop by after you're done with the WC?"

Louisiana liked being devious sometimes.

xxXxx

"Get away from me!" West Virginia screeched in fear.

"No!" Virginia cackled, chasing his twin down with Alaska.

"Just become one with him!" Alaska yelled out.

"Yeah, it's not like it will hurt you!" Virginia chimed.

"Hurt me?!" West cried out in shock, climbing up a tree. "You're trying to kill me!"

"No, we aren't," Virginia denied, then looked at the evilly smiling Alaska, "Well, I'm not, anyway."

"Yes, you are!" West protested. "You want to become one state again. That means I'll have to fade!"

"Not necessarily," Alaska said, looking up the tree at West and moving his pale hair from his violet eyes, "You could be like the Italies."

" 'Could be' is the key phrase, Alaska!" West yelled out, and he added, "I'm calling Dad!"

"With what phone?" Alaska taunted, holding up a white iPhone with amusement.

"Damn it!" West Virginia whispered.

"Language!" Virginia admonished.

"I'm doomed!" West mourned for himself.

Alaska began to evilly cackle, Virginia join in after some seconds. This caused West to begin to sob, and it was all just a mess.

It took maybe thirty minutes before West fell from the tree. Alaska quickly tied him up and then shoved him into the car he and Virginia drove to WA in.

"And you're sure Louisiana has a voodoo spell that will get him to join with me, right?" Virginia was asking as they drove.

"I am certain," Alaska replied.

Turns out, Louisiana really did. Only, he refused to perform the spell. Something about how dad would get upset, Alaska didn't really listen.

"We will just ask Massachusetts. Maybe he's still got some magick, da?" Alaska suggested.

Unknown to him and Virginia, West Virginia had already escaped and was making his watch to their dad.

They were all doomed.

 **A/N**

 **The White Lady legend goes exactly how told in the fic, or at least from what I've heard, that's how it goes. The description and mannerisms I used for her are of my own creation.**

 **N. Carolina apparently has a stereotype for loving biscuits. I just exaggerated it in this fic.**

 **WA is the abbreviation for West Virginia.**

 **State human names:**

 **Nevada=Carlos**

 **Oregon=Chad**

 **California=Marilyn**

 **New York= Palmer**

 **Connecticut=Jonathan**

 **N. Carolina=Cecil**

 **S. Carolina=David**

 **Illinois=Abraham**

 **Pennsylvania=Willa**

 **Louisiana=Louis**

 **Alabama=Nick**

 **Texas=Clyde**

 **West Virginia=Steve**

 **Virginia=Chris**

 **Alaska=Sergei**

 **Massachusetts=John**

 **Interesting factoid (aw Olive): I was originally going to make Pennsylvania a guy named William, but then I thought about how cute it would be if he was a she who shared Germany's and Prussia's traits, so at times she could be a little Germany and other times a little Prussia. Sounds adorable to me, so it will probably be exlored in a later shot.**

 **Also, don't be worried about Illinois being an asshole. He was just being comedic relief, as he stated.**

 **Have a good day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

 **You have no idea how happy I am... A new FF app update allows me to create new chapters on my phone, which means I don't have to use my evil tablet to type up fics anymore. When I discovered this, I actually felt relieved/happy tears.**

 **I'm just so happy.**

 **Now I just have to update this from my tablet! I dont have to type stuff up on it anymore!**

xxXxx

"Penn!" an angered voice screeched, storming into the house and slamming the door shut. A girl, about eighteen-years-old, sighed and placed a slip of paper where she was leaving off in her book. Her hair was blonde, nearly white in color, but not quite there, and her eyes were blue. Her face was calm and she already looked exhausted by the conversation that was inevitably about to occur in _3, 2, 1..._

"Look at what York did to me!" the angry person yelled, stomping into Pennsylvania's living room with livid rage radiating from him. Penn obediently looked at the person and saw Delaware, her brother, with some sort of sticky, brown liquid coating his hair, completely dry in some places.

"Is that molasses?" she questioned, her eyebrow raised and her voice carrying a long-suffering tone.

"Yes!" Delaware hissed angrily, rightfully so, as he began to pace across her living room. "Do you know how long this is going to take to get out?!"

Penn shrugged, "An hour or less?" Delaware whipped around to glare at her so fiercely, it nearly frightened her.

"An hour? An hour?!" He yelled, nearly shrieking. "This- this will take years to come out! Years, Willa!" At the use of her human name, Penn sighed, her agitation simultaneously dissipated and growing. To Delaware, this was serious: he loved his hair. He groomed the brunette strands and cared for them with such tender love and affection, that she wondered if he cared for anything else in life. But Penn thought - or rather, _knew -_ that he was overreacting. And she was most definitely not in the mood to deal with Delaware and his haircare emergencies.

"Dela," she said calmly. "Why don't you go to DC with this problem? Or Dad?"

Delaware waved his hand in the air dismissively.

"Dad's with the Prez on business, and DC is too innocent and babyish to do anything about... well, anything when it comes to mediating. Everyone knows that they should come to you if they want something solved."

Penn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed. After a second she opened them and said, "Go take a shower upstairs. I'll call New York and tell him to apologize to you at the next meeting, okay?" Delaware's eye twitched, as if he wanted Penn to promise that she'd kick York's ass for him, but he grumbled an inaudible reply and stomped his way upstairs to shower.

Penn sighed, taking out a Sharpie marker and writing a reminder on her wrist, _Next state meeting, bring up the idea of taking a vacation. You need one._

xxXxx

"And let the Four Corners Meeting commence!" Arizona proclaimed loudly, banging her fist in the coffee table of her living room as a makeshift gavel. The other states that make up the Four Corners sat around the table: Utah, New Mexico, and Colorado.

Arizona continued speaking in an authoritative tone, "We have gathered here today to discuss any and all pranks pulled by our members since our last meeting two months ago or any and all pranks in the making. We are also here to review the details and rules of the truce we four share and of any truces and/or treaties made with fellow states. Utah, you speak first."

Utah, his hair dusty brunette and his eyes deep brown, stood from his place and spoke with a big, happy, content grin, "I sent Montana a box of those dick-shaped lollipops with no returning address."

"Cock-sucker," smiled Colorado, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "I get it. How long ago did you send them out?"

"Two days ago," answered Utah, a deviously excited glint in his eyes. "He should open them soon."

Arizona smirked in satisfaction and prompted, "New Mexico?"

New Mexico (NM) and Utah traded places, the two high-fiving as they passed each other. NM cleared his throat, and he said, "I rigged Maine's phone to blare "I'm a Barbie Girl" everyday at 3AM for thirty consecutive minutes."

Arizona gave a slow clap with a huge grin. "Colorado?" she asked, and the aforementioned state traded places with NM.

"I targeted..." he paused, knowing the reactions he was about to receive, "...Dad."

Immediate, shocked gasps.

"You're going to _die_ ," NM whispered, despondent and shocked.

"Are you insane?" Arizona asked, his face paling as he spoke.

"You're gonna be grounded for life," Utah said, his voice low.

Then, all at once, their faces broke into excited, enthusiastic grins, and they asked, "What are ya gonna do?!"

Colorado smirked smugly as he whispered, "Horror movie."

"What do you mean?" Utah asked, his eyes wide and wondering.

"I'm going to scare him," Colorado clarified. "I've been planning this for months. I'm _not_ gonna screw it up."

Arizona cleared his throat, "I nominate the idea that we use the rest of the meeting discussing Colorado's plan. All agreed, say 'Aye!'"

"Aye!" chorused them all. Colorado grinned, and he gave them the details.

xxXxx

"Oh, no!" whispered America as the curtains in his house fluttered and the lights flickered on and off sporadically. The TV flipped from channel to channel, and from upstairs he heard many thunderous footsteps. "The ghosts are back!" he said with a horrified squeak. "And the Winchesters aren't even here right now!" A loud _clang!_ from upstairs made him flinch.

"Eep!" The crazy things around him continued to happen, so he braved the walk from his safe hiding place in the closet to the kitchen, where he grabbed the salt. Then he cautiously made his way upstairs, where the clanging was coming from, sweat doing from his face as cold dread piled into his stomach. He moved his thumb over his iron ring, just to be sure it's there in case he has to _nail_ some ghost in the face with a right hook to re-kill the thing... or whatever.

The clanging got louder and louder, and he realized it was coming from his room. Ever so slowly, he painstakingly opened his bedroom door, the salt shaker held high with its top loosened, and he threw some of the salt at the ghost/demon/ _(please don't be a)_ wendigo.

"Ow! What the heck, Dad?!" He looked up, surprised to see his son there with two frying pans, no doubt being banged together to create the clanging sounds.

"Michael Colorado Jones! You are in _so_ much trouble, young man!"

Downstairs, Arizona snuck from the basement, where he had been playing with the fuse box to make the lights flicker, and into Utah's car, where Utah had a remote he used to mess with their Dad's TV. And NM snuck into the car, too, after having switched out their Dad's coffee for decaf. Colorado was certainly not going to rat them out.

xxXxx

Massachusetts (or just Mass) giggled to himself as it was announced that his plane was about to land, his face alight with giddy and perhaps demented excitement. His leg bounced up and down as he thought of his prank, his revenge, that had been coming to his target for a long time now... a very, very, very long time.

As he left the plane with the other passengers and took his duffel from the baggage claim area, his snickers, giggles, and wild eyes made more than a few people uncomfortable. But luckily for Mass, no one tried to call security on him, because that would be bad. It would ruin his plan.

And potentially reveal himself and his brothers and sisters to the nations.

And if that happened, he already had a response planned:

"Whoops. My bad."

He was never that eloquent, okay?

He hailed a cab after picking up his bag, and he spent the entire drive in a nervous but enlivened state. When he arrived at his target's house, he payed the taxi driver and stalked to the windows on the other side of the house, where he conveniently saw an open window.

...On the second floor.

No problem. He came all this way, so he could make it.

With his bag over his shoulder, Mass scaled one of the four the support pillars, all three of them tangled in thick, strong vines. It took effort, but eventually he made it to the roof, and he carefully made his way to the open window and slid inside.

He was very thankful that Europeans didn't have screen-windows accompanying the normal windows in that moment.

He found himself in what looked like a comfy miniature library. Shelves of books, old and new, littered the walls, the only empty wall space being the little area with a fireplace and armchair before it. A small, circular, wooden table stood beside it, several books resting on top of the smooth surface.

No wonder the window was open: what better to complete your own library than fresh air?

"Geez," Mass said as he gazed at the works of literature from every time period. "As much as I loathe to admit it, I would love to have this room."

After saying that, Mass looked rather repulsed at his statement, proving that yes, he did loathe to admit it. However, he shook his head and continued on.

He left the library and found himself in a hallway with several doors. He sighed and began his search for the room he was looking for: his target's bedroom.

It took longer than he'd prefer, but eventually he found it. (After an embarrassing mishap with a cat, sadly. He now had claw marks all over his face. Ouch.)

He giggled as he began to put his amazing plan into action.

xxXxx

America's phone rang loudly, startling him from his sleep. Bleary-eyed, he flipped open his phone with a yawn, saying, "Hello?"

"America, you twit!" cried a very furious British voice. "Why would you? I thought I raised you better than this, really, America-"

The man's rant continued, America only half-listening in his sleep state. Something about hair dye mixed with shampoo, laxatives in his tea bags, A's being written sloppily over the E's in "Grey" on his Earl Grey tea boxes, among other things. America briefly noted to ask his kids which one of them pranked England, and he then said, "Sounds great, Artie... 's cool. I'll talk to ya later... G'night. Love ya." He then hung up the phone.

On the other side of the world, all the way across the pond, England froze.

America... _Alfred_ hasn't told him that he loves him in a long, long time.

xxXxx

 **A/N**

 **Less states than usual, I know, but I needed to update this, as I am sure you all know.**

 **State/Human names:**

 **Pennsylvania=Willa**

 **Delaware=Beau**

 **Colorado=Michael**

 **Arizona=Jordan**

 **Utah=Lee**

 **New Mexico=George**

 **Massachusetts=John**


End file.
